


wrap your arms around my heart just like you always do

by Lineal



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Animal Transformation, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fruits Basket au, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Seahorse Omi, seahorses click when horny, slight spoilers for the timeskip, this started as crack but its a thing now ig
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:13:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29383278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lineal/pseuds/Lineal
Summary: Atsumu may not have gone to college, but he knows enough about basic human biology to know that people arenot, underanycircumstances, supposed to turn into seahorses.And yet here he is now, about three minor inconveniences away from breaking into tears, holding a growling seahorse in his hand and with Sakusa nowhere to be found.OR sakuatsu fruits basket au
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 10
Kudos: 54





	1. and every moment lost are just misunderstood

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much to [stephbethallen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephbethallen) for betaing and helping me with the story, this fic literally wouldn't be a thing without her (go check her fics out too, they're awesome!!)
> 
> yes, this is a fruits basket au! you don't need to have any knowledge about the series to read this though, as most of the overall concept is gonna be explained and it's pretty different from the original
> 
> work and chapter titles from [Give It All](https://youtu.be/7E-fks5IWhQ)
> 
> enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Atsumu POV

Sakusa Kiyoomi is a mystery and a half.

A damn frustrating one, at that, which is why Atsumu has made it his life mission to solve him, piece by piece, step by step.

Usually by now, a good six years later, he would have already completed his goals from before plus a few extras— Atsumu’s stubbornly persistent like that— but it seems like Sakusa has made it _his_ life mission to make this as difficult as possible for him.

Seriously, why is it so hard to even get closer than an arm’s length away from that guy? It’s like he’s _trying_ to repel every person and any sort of human contact out there, sulking in a corner with only his gloves and masks and cleaning supplies instead.

Well. If that’s what he’s trying to do, then too bad for him— if anything, Sakusa’s strange antics only serve to fuel Atsumu’s curiosity even more, and a curious Atsumu is a dedicated Atsumu who’s not going to give up.

_Ever._

And if he has to be an annoying brat that won’t stop bothering Sakusa for an answer until he either caves or punts Atsumu into the sun? 

Then Atsumu will be an annoying brat that won’t stop bothering Sakusa for an answer until he either caves or punts him into the sun.

...speaking of which, Sakusa’s starting to look like he’s considering the latter as Atsumu slides into the seat across from him with a wide, dazzling grin. The chair is still slightly warm from its previous occupant, the petite girl who had only left a few minutes before Atsumu came waltzing in from his seat a few tables away.

“No,” Sakusa hisses before he can even open his mouth. “We are _not_ doing this today.”

“Oh come on, Omi-kun! I haven’t even said anything yet.”

_“No,”_ Sakusa repeats, slowly inching away from Atsumu. “Fuck off, Miya.”

He looks like he’s about to bolt.

Shit, he probably _is._

Atsumu laughs, maybe a tad bit nervously. “Aw, can’t ya just give me a chance? For all you know, I coulda just wanted ta tell you what a jolly coincidence it is to see ya here and discuss this new formation I’ve been workin’ on—.”

“Are you?”

“Well, not necessarily, but, uh.” Oh no, Sakusa’s already beginning to gather up his things and that’s the last thing Atsumu wants him to do. Aside from throwing him out the nearest window, that is, but doing so would require touching, so he’s safe. For now. “Wait, Omi!”

“No, I’m _leaving._ Goodbye, Miya.”

“Wait!” Atsumu tries again, getting to his feet in case this is going to turn into another chase scene. 

“No.”

He needs to come up with something, anything that’ll make Sakusa pause for a second, anything that’ll make sure he doesn’t run, anything that—. 

“I didn’t know you were into blondes,” Atsumu blurts out, and then proceeds to give himself a mental high five to the face.

That seems to do the trick though, as Sakusa pivots on his heels immediately so that he’s facing Atsumu with narrowed eyes. “Don’t bring Hitoka into this.”

“Hitoka— oh, that’s her name? ‘S cute.” 

“Forget I said that.”

“No,” Atsumu croons, making a heart with his hands. “She yer girlfriend or somethin’? Didn’t know you were into younger girls.”

“No, _no I’m not_ .” Sakusa’s face, Atsumu notes with a little bit of glee, is red. “And no, we’re not— we’re not _dating._ ”

“I dunno, seemed awfully close over there,” Atsumu hums under his breath. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell the team.”

“You won’t tell the team because there’s _nothing to tell the team_.”

“You guys were holdin’ hands! Hands! Touchin’! You don’t do touchin’, so excuse me for assuming.”

Somehow, Sakusa’s become even more red than before as he stares at his feet, anywhere but Atsumu. “That’s not…”

“Like would _I_ be able to hold yer hand? No, you’d punch me! Oh wait, that includes touchin’, uh…” 

“I’m... I'm gay.”

“Yeah, yer— wait, what?”

Sakusa looks like he’s going to combust any second now, and Atsumu blinks. That was… not the reaction he was looking for… wait, how is he even supposed to respond to that?

“I… uh, thanks for telling me, Omi,” he settles on, and then, in more of a question than a statement, “me… me too?”

A beat.

“I’m leaving.”

Oh, so they’re just gonna pretend that that didn’t happen? Classic.

“Omi, hold up, I—.”

He moves without thinking, hand reaching out and clasping around Sakusa’s wrist.

Sakusa’s eyes widen, and the moment seems to stretch on for eternity before he pulls away and slaps Atsumu in the face.

Hard.

Ouch, that’s definitely going to leave a bruise.

Atsumu lets out a yelp, stumbling back and cupping his cheek tenderly. “Ow, what—!”

“ _Don’t_ touch me,” Sakusa snaps, and suddenly he’s back in his second year of highschool, clutching at his probably broken toes that the strange, wavy-haired wing spiker had stomped on after Atsumu had maybe tried to grab his arm because _why the fuck was he being such an ass about partner warm ups?_

Sakusa had been glaring at him then, too, with his feet positioned and shoulders slumped defensively, and hidden— but not completely covered— beneath all of that anger and disgusted scowls was something that Atsumu thought that he would never ever see on Sakusa Kiyoomi’s face.

_Fear._

_He was—_ is— _scared._

And just like before, all Atsumu can do is stand there and stare at Sakusa’s back as he disappears through the door in a whirlwind of silent fury. 

Distantly, he comes across the feeling of relief that this had all unfolded in a pretty secluded corner of a mostly empty cafe. The coaches would have their heads if this got leaked onto the internet.

There’s something else there, too, heavy and festering: guilt. He’s feeling guilty. Miya Atsumu is feeling _guilty_.

Fuck.

* * *

The next day at practice is pretty much the same as usual— loud, intense— except now Atsumu feels like he’s walking on eggshells around Sakusa.

To be fair, he doesn’t mean to be like this— Sakusa’s not gonna _break_ if he does something wrong once— but it just comes naturally, amplified by the guilt clawing at him from the inside.

Atsumu doesn’t greet him in the morning. In fact, he barely says anything to Sakusa at all aside from calling his name— Sakusa, not Omi or any of its variants— when sending a toss his way. He doesn’t nag, doesn’t make small talk, however one sided it usually is, doesn’t call for Sakusa over and over again just to annoy him.

No, Atsumu is perfectly well behaved. 

And people are _noticing_.

“Um, Atsumu-san,” Hinata pipes up during one of their breaks. “Is everything okay?”

“Huh? Yeah, ’m great! Perfect! Never been better! Why would ya think I’m not?”

Hinata frowns at him, and is about to open his mouth to say something else when a whistle blows and they’re hurriedly ushered back onto the court.

Atsumu doesn’t let out a deep breath in relief. No, why would he?

Sakusa’s staring. Atsumu resists any and all urges to look his way.

* * *

“Miya, wait, I need to speak with—.”

“Ah, sorry Meian-san, but I can’t talk ta you today! Family emergency, hafta get home,” Atsumu blurts as he rushes into the locker room, hoping that that was at least a little convincing. 

Apparently it was, seeing how that lets him narrowly escape from Meian’s wrath for now. Atsumu knows that look on the older man’s face, and it probably won’t be pretty for him tomorrow.

Swearing quietly under his breath, he slips into the room to make a quick call and hopefully hide in one of the showers until everyone leaves. 

Osamu picks up on the fifth ring, greeting him with a bleary “what,” and Atsumu sighs in relief.

“Okay, look, don’ ask any questions, but—.”

“Who died?” 

“No one! Jesus.” He’s hopping from standing on one foot to the other impatiently, eyes flitting over to the door every few seconds in case someone comes in and he needs to make a run for it. “Listen, if anyone asks ya ‘bout me, jus’ say that somethin’ happened at home and I needed ta go see ma.”

Atsumu can almost see the way his twin blinks slowly, processing the information. “...huh. Do I need ta come up with an alibi for ya, too, or…?”

“Oh fuck you, ‘m an innocent man.”

“Uh huh.”

“Y’know what!?” Shit, at this rate, someone’s gonna get here before Atsumu can finish. “Can you just. _Not_ show up anywhere till tomorrow? Stay home? Pretend yer goin’ back home, too.”

Silence. “Hm…”

“Come on, please, I know yer not doing anythin’ anyways, so—.”

“Bold of you to assume,” another familiar voice drawls, and Atsumu almost physically recoils from his phone with a muffled scream. “Your brother has been _very_ busy—.”

“Suna, you motherfucker.”

Suna snorts. “So, how’s criminal life going?”

“I’m not—.”

There’s the sound of footsteps outside and Atsumu jumps, probably sending Suna and his brother into a panic with his surprised yelp— serves them right, anyway— and hisses a quick “bye, call you later” before hanging up.

What happens next is. Well.

What happens next is entirely out of Atsumu’s control.

As the footsteps draw closer, louder, so does the thumping of Atsumu’s heartbeat in his ears as he shoves his belongings into his locker and runs into the nearest shower, not looking where he’s going at all and apparently unable to hear the sound of water in the already occupied stall—.

The shower stall occupied by the last person Atsumu wants to see right now.

“Shit.”

That’s the only thing he manages to get out before a bottle of shampoo is thrown at his face.

“Miya, just _what_ do you think you’re doing?” Sakusa asks lowly, already reaching for another bottle as Atsumu rubs at his nose tentatively. 

Atsumu gulps. “Uh. It’s not what it looks like—.”

“Then tell me, Miya,” Sakusa says way too calmly for him to actually be calm. “Just _what exactly_ does this look like?” He’s backed up into the corner, putting as much distance between them as possible, and Atsumu rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, the guilt from yesterday coming back at full force.

“You see…” Sakusa shifts uncomfortably, backing up even further so that his back is now pressed up against the wall. “I… ‘m just gonna go and… use another stall now, bye—.”

There’s the sound of the door opening, and Bokuto’s rambunctious laughter fills the room. Both of them freeze, silent, unmoving, and Atsumu has the sudden urge to cry because _what the fuck was that timing—._

He slowly starts moving away from the door, cringing when Sakusa’s eyes widen at the already small distance between them becoming even less. 

Fuck, he’s really messed up, hasn’t he?

“Listen, Omi,” Atsumu whispers, trying his best to keep his voice even despite the pounding of his heart in his chest. “Can ya just… stay quiet for now? I promise I won’t touch ya. At all. This is as close as ‘m gonna get, okay?” he reassures, holding his hands up in surrender as if Sakusa’s a wild animal instead of another perfectly civil human adult. 

Contrary to Atsumu’s previous statement, Sakusa makes a noise that sounds _nothing_ like what would come from a perfectly civil human adult.

Actually— is it even possible for someone to make a sound like that?

Atsumu doesn’t get much time to dwell on those thoughts, as he sees the exact moment Sakusa shifts ever-so-slightly in the wrong direction before it happens.

It takes a split second for him to react, once again reaching out without thinking, but this time, Atsumu’s whole body lurches forward as Sakusa stumbles, and—.

He hits the floor, the uncomfortably lukewarm water falling down around him not helping his probably-scraped knees in the slightest. But it’s okay, because he managed to get to—.

Wait. Where the fuck is Sakusa?

Large clouds of bright yellow smoke constrict Atsumu’s vision and he coughs, fanning a hand in an attempt to make it clear up faster. He doesn’t want to even think about _where_ it came from, but the thought comes up that Sakusa might’ve just been turned into yellow smoke because Atsumu touched him, holy—.

Is that… is that _normal_? Is that why that guy always avoids skin-to-skin contact? 

_How does that even work?_

At least the loud ringing in his ears is getting quieter, enough for Atsumu to hear a few voices outside asking if he’s okay and for him to reply with a light laugh as he racks his brain for more information about what just happened.

Atsumu had lunged forward when he realized what was about to happen and grabbed Sakusa by his arm, maybe falling a bit _too much_ , resulting in _too many_ points of contact— which, to Atsumu’s credit, he had no idea was going to be fatal, or at least lead to whatever just—.

He. Atsumu had managed to grab _something_. And now… 

Only now does he notice the weight in his other hand, wrapped around something small and _moving_ and okay, so Sakusa _didn’t_ turn into smoke, but that doesn’t make the situation any better than it already was.

He hesitantly unfurls his hand, fingers moving ever so slowly and coming to a full stop as Atsumu tries to wrap his head around the sudden change in events.

In his hand sits a seahorse.

A seahorse with what appears to be moles, glaring at him and producing the same strange noises that Sakusa had been making just moments before.

“Um.”

Atsumu may not have gone to college, but he knows enough about basic human biology to know that people are _not_ , under _any_ circumstances, supposed to turn into seahorses.

But… what better explanation for this _is_ there?

“Oh fuck.”

The seahorse— _Sakusa_ — shifts and makes another noise as if to agree.

Oh fuck indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaAAAA okay cant believe i'm committing myself to another multichaptered fic but-
> 
> i was gonna post this on sunday because valentine's day, but today's more fitting for this fic lol. 新年快樂!! happy lunar new years to those who celebrate, and happy makki year!! (yes he is the ox, no i'm not revealing anything else)
> 
> additional notes for this chap  
> \- it was actually a complete coincidence that they met at the cafe  
> \- "...in case this is going to turn into another chase scene" yes it's happened before  
> \- suna and osamu weren't doing anything lmao suna's just being an ass  
> \- the sound that omi was making was the seahorse growl  
> \- IGNORE THAT ONE TAG ITS FUNNY OKAYJKFDHGKFD
> 
> next chapter's gonna go into more detail about the situation, just know that i've taken a LOT of creative liberties with this. mostly because i have no memory and can't remember how things worked in fruits basket but it's fine! we vibin'
> 
> (the original idea was omi turning into a sea urchin lmao before we realized that that wouldn't work for a number of reasons)
> 
> anywho, thanks for reading!! multichap fics are hard so any kudos, bookmarks, and comments are always appreciated!!! (let me know who you think is in the zodiac haha, you already have two)
> 
> gonna be updating tags as i go. see y'all next week, and don't forget to hydrate!


	2. if i could speak i’d tell you everything i know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> an explanation, plus far too many _"atsumu, now why the FUCK would you say that"_ moments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omi POV

From the moment he woke up to the sound of something crashing and shattering in the kitchen, Kiyoomi knew that today was going to be a bad day.

How bad, though, he had greatly underestimated. 

He had thought that Komori breaking in at ass o’clock in the morning and showing absolutely no mercy to the few plates that Kiyoomi had put out on the drying rack was going to be the extent of it— plus a general day of having a bad mood, which he’s sure everyone around him would agree that it’s just a normal day in the life of Sakusa Kiyoomi.

Point is, Kiyoomi hadn’t thought that it was going to get any worse— hell, he didn’t think that it was even physically possible for his day to get any worse than it already was. 

_It got worse._

_So much worse._

And now Kiyoomi stands in his kitchen, boiling water for the fifth time in an hour, not even making it into tea now, just drinking cup after cup of hot water as Atsumu sits awkwardly at the table, cupping an already cold mug of tea in his hands.

He should have known. _He should have known the moment he had slapped the annoying setter yesterday._

Kiyoomi’s grip on the kettle tightens and he slams it back onto the stove, hissing at the heat. The hand that he used yesterday is still tingling with an unnatural warmth to it— not necessarily uncomfortable, but still foreign and something that Kiyoomi would rather avoid— and he can’t believe he’s seriously considering slapping Atsumu again.

Okay, that— that maybe sounds _very_ wrong.

But if he jumps one more time at even the smallest of Kiyoomi’s actions, then _someone_ is getting hurt today.

The silence is stifling, suffocating, and Kiyoomi clears his throat to break it.

The only thing that ends up broken, however, is Atsumu’s cup. His nose is probably going to join it the moment that Kiyoomi—.

He looks up and their eyes meet, one wide and one narrowed, and suddenly it’s Kiyoomi looking away because _fuck_ , those were the same eyes that looked over him while he was… while he was… 

Being swallowed by a blackhole suddenly sounds very nice.

It had taken thirty whole minutes for the locker room to clear out fully, with Atsumu holding him under the running lukewarm water like he was a kid trying to save a fish from dying on land or something. Then, another ten minutes of enduring the disgusting water and having to listen to Atsumu screaming passed before Kiyoomi had finally, blessedly turned back.

Then Atsumu had fucking _fainted_ on him, and by the time they reached Kiyoomi’s apartment, it was already a good two hours after practice had ended.

If Kiyoomi has to be honest, that would probably rank as two of the most embarrassing hours of his life so far, and that’s saying something. 

He bites his lip, absentmindedly scratching at his tingling skin. He had reached over Atsumu’s forehead, hand hovering over it, ready yet uncertain. It would have been so easy to just… erase his memories then, shrug it off as one of his ridiculous dreams or something, but Kiyoomi had stopped himself. No, he had promised to never do that again, not after… after…

After _him_.

When the mess is cleaned up and Kiyoomi’s sure that there’s nothing within Atsumu’s reach that could possibly break too, he tries again.

“You know…”

“Huh?”

“If I was a real seahorse,” Kiyoomi sighs, “I’d be dead by now. What were you _thinking_ , just putting me under that shitty shower water?”

“What, I— give a man a break here, Omi!” Atsumu sputters, though Kiyoomi doesn’t fail to notice a slight flinch. “‘S not everyday someone turns into a seahorse. Do I _look_ like someone who knows anythin’ about seahorses?”

“No.”

“Exactly!”

“Anyways,” Kiyoomi grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. “What were you even doing in my shower stall?”

“Uh…”

“Didn’t you hear the water running? See that the door was closed?” he continues in rapidfire succession as the color rapidly drains from Atsumu’s face. “Or, I don’t know, see that there was steam and rub your two braincells together to get the thought that someone else was in the locker—.”

“Okay, look! There wasn’t any steam— why the fuck d’ya shower in _lukewarm_ water?” Atsumu nearly shrieks. “Do ya know how _horrible_ it was ta just stand under that?”

“That’s unrelated. Moving on, what is _wrong_ with you today?”

“What’s wrong with me?” he repeats incredulously. “What’s wrong with _you?_ And that’s too many questions! My turn, what—?”

“Answer the fucking question, Miya,” Kiyoomi bites out, feeling his fingers twitch at his sides. “Does it have to do with yesterday?”

“Yesterday? I mean… _kinda_ ?” Atsumu shrugs helplessly. “Ya slap hard, Omi, so ‘scuse me for bein’ scared of— _don’t raise yer hand, oh my god_.”

Kiyoomi flushes, lowering his hand. “Oh, I… I thought it was because of the… the gay thing.”

“The gay— Omi, why would I reply with ‘me too’ if I was homophobic?” 

“I don’t know, you just seem like that kind of person.”

“Jesus,” Atsumu blinks. “I know I’m an ass sometimes, but _Jesus Christ._ ”

Kiyoomi looks down, and the silence stretches on again. “...sorry…”

_“Huh?”_

“For… for slapping you. Sorry.”

Komori’s probably laughing at him from all the way in Tokyo. 

“Oh, uh. Sorry, too. For grabbin’ ya,” Atsumu coughs into his fist and Kiyoomi scowls, shoving a pack of wipes his way. “Yesterday and today. Didn’ think that you'd… turn into… a seahorse?”

There’s another long pause, and then Kiyoomi draws in a deep breath. “Okay, first of all, never apologize like that again. It’s creepy.”

Atsumu sticks his tongue out. “Yeah, okay, good. You too, Mr. Seahorse.”

“I’m going to throw you out the window,” Kiyoomi deadpans, lunging forward with the full intent to do so as Atsumu lets out a shrill shriek and hops onto the couch. “Miya—.”

“Wait, wait, aren’t you gonna turn if ya touch me?”

_“No.”_ The kettle whistles in the background and Kiyoomi turns to turn the flame off, deciding that not burning down his apartment should be prioritized over murder. “If it was triggered by just touch, don’t you think I would’ve been found out by now?”

“When you put it that way…”

“Hugs. It’s caused by hugs.” He fills the teapot with the water, letting the mint leaves steep for a few minutes.

“Hugs,” Atsumu parrots incredulously. 

“From people of the same gender.”

“...huh. That’s wack. Who comes up with this stuff?”

Kiyoomi snorts. “Oh trust me, we’d all like to know that. Here,” he sets a steaming cup down in front of Atsumu. “Don’t burn yourself.”

Atsumu huffs and takes a small sip. He makes a humming sound like he’s actually thinking about it. “Wait a minute, ‘we’? There’s more of ya?”

“Drink your damn tea, Miya, and just shut up for once, would you?”

“Alright, alright, listenin’.”

“Well, _basically_ … I’m cursed.”

_Cursed_ wouldn’t exactly be the best way to describe it, but trying to find a better word would only make the situation more complicated than it already is. Explaining it with _normal_ words is already too much. Kiyoomi really can see how ridiculous this can sound to an outsider, how small and trivial the problem would be to them.

_Other people are suffering more. It’s not even that bad for you, stop being overdramatic._

He hates it.

Atsumu thankfully gets the hint and stays quiet, pursing his lips instead of interrupting with some snarky comments.

“Uh… it’s kinda complicated, but there’s thirteen of us. We— do you know the Chinese Zodiac?”

He blinks at the sudden change in topic. “More or less, yeah.”

“The Zodiac animals… they— we’re all possessed by them, in a way. I guess.” Kiyoomi pauses, watching Atsumu count using his fingers a few times and stopping on twelve every time, a quizzical expression crossing his face. “The cat,” he supplies in exasperation when the gesture is repeated a couple more times. “You’re forgetting the cat.”

“ _Oh._ I knew that.”

“Sure you did,” he says and continues before Atsumu can say anything else. “Moving on. We’re possessed by a specific animal, and we end up transforming when hugged by someone of the same gender. That’s the gist of it.” The tea, much to his dismay, has already started cooling considerably. “It’s really more of a pain in the ass than anything— we don’t get anything special out of it, just a whole bunch of pointless inconveniences.”

“Mhm. ‘S rough, buddy…”

“...are you seriously quoting—.”

“Sorry, sorry, I couldn’t jus’ let the chance pass!”

Kiyoomi stares, eyes twitching. “I can’t _believe_ you’re making _jokes_ while— what is _wrong_ with you?”

Atsumu chuckles, albeit a bit sheepishly, before freezing suddenly. “Wait…”

“What?”

“Is… is there a seahorse in the Chinese Zodiac?”

Silence.

“Fuck.”

Right, if there’s one thing Kiyoomi hates more than explaining the curse, it’s explaining that he’s supposed to be a dragon, _not a seahorse_.

He says exactly this and Atsumu, ever the dickhead, bursts out into rambunctious laughter.

* * *

“Okay, so yer the seahorse—.”

_“Dragon.”_

“Seahorse,” Atsumu insists, snickering. “Who else is there? ‘S the whole Zodiac, right?”

“Plus the cat,” Kiyoomi adds in. “The cat’s just as important as the rest of us.”

“Plus the cat, yeah.” A quick glance at the clock shows that almost two hours have passed since they started, yet Atsumu still seems keen on dragging it out even longer. “Hm. Is Komori like you? Since yer cousins…?”

Kiyoomi nods in lieu of an answer, occupying himself with swirling his almost empty cup around instead.

“Huh. No wonder he doesn’t like hugs,” Atsumu mutters. “Always found it weird since he’s… Komori, y’know? Thought you were just rubbin’ off on ‘im or somethin’.” He grins. “So what is he, then?”

“Hm?”

“What animal? Like yer the seahorse—.”

“Dragon.”

“ _Seahorse._ Which animal is Komori? Dog? I can totally see ‘im as a dog.”

“Technically,” Kiyoomi snaps, “I’m not supposed to be telling you _any_ of this.”

“You already are, though,” he quips. “Won’t hurt if ya tell me one more.”

“Well actually, yes. Yes it will.”

“Oh come on, Omi!”

Atsumu stubbornly refuses to look anywhere but Kiyoomi’s eyes— which is not only annoying but also _extremely creepy_ — and he sighs. “The rabbit. Komori’s the rabbit.”

“Rabbit. That actually makes alotta sense,” Atsumu muses. “He seems like a rabbit kinda guy. Like… happy? Jumpy? Cute— no, ‘m not hitting on yer cousin, stop looking at me like that!”

Said cousin is most likely cackling at his suffering in utter glee now, that little devil. Kiyoomi groans. “No. _No_ , Komori is _not_ what you think he is. At all. Stay away from him. Whatever you do, don’t let him know that you found out.”

Atsumu’s smile drops. “Wait, why? Is he… is he like an evil bunny or somethin’? Are ya gonna get in trouble? Oh god, am _I_ gonna get in trouble?”

“Yes. Yes we are. So make sure he doesn’t find out.”

“Shit,” Atsumu breathes out, genuinely panicked, and Kiyoomi maybe feels a little bad for making feel that way, but it’s a much better alternative to all those teasing comments and looks that Komori would definitely send his way if he ever found out. “Is _everyone_ in the family evil? Wait, how many cousins d’ya even have?”

“None of us are cousins,” Kiyoomi points out as if it’s the most obvious fact in the world. “Or siblings. None of mine are affected by the curse in any way; it’s just me.”

“Yer not an only child?” Atsumu gawks.

“Komori and I are a special case,” Kiyoomi continues, pointedly ignoring him. “Maybe hundreds of years ago, all the… cursed members were directly related— I think they even had the same last name. That’s not the case anymore, though. Most of us are only really connected by the curse itself.”

“Oh, huh…”

“There are too many couples between members, anyway,” Kiyoomi huffs. “That’d be weird if we were actually related.”

“Cousinfucker,” Atsumu whispers, and Kiyoomi briefly considers throwing his cup at his head.

* * *

“None of this is going to leave this room,” Kiyoomi hisses about ten minutes later as Atsumu rubs at his sore hand petulantly. He has to admit that his aim never was the best. “You’re not going to breathe a word of this to _anyone_.”

It’s an order, not a request, and yet Atsumu seems to take it like one.

“What’ll happen if this gets out?”

“I’ll have to erase your memory.” Kiyoomi grimaces at the thought. “Everyone who’s involved will have them erased too.”

A laugh escapes Atsumu’s mouth. “Oh, wow, funny joke, Omi. What’s really gonna happen? Are they gonna come kill me or somethin’?”

Kiyoomi gives him an unimpressed frown, and his laughter dies down. “Wait, yer _serious_ ‘bout that?”

“Why would I joke about something like this? I’m not you.”

“Hey, that’s _rude_.” Then, using an even ruder gesture, Atsumu jabs his thumb in Kiyoomi’s direction. “And I’ll keep it a secret, geez! So back off, yer not goin’ anywhere near my memories!”

“Thanks. And I’d rather not.” He ignores the fact that he was close to doing so less than five hours ago. _If only it could have been resolved so easily_ . “It’s exhausting for both parties, _and_ your memories of me as a whole would be affected. That’d be a pain for the team.”

“That’d be a pain for _me_ too.”

“Oh, and you’d also get frequent migraines, too.”

“What kinda messed up memory fuckery is this?”

Kiyoomi shrugs. “Just something that the dragon can do. It’s not like these things come with an instruction manual or something. I don’t like it any better than you do.”

Atsumu opens his mouth, closes it, and then opens it again. “So yer… _not_ gonna mess with mine?”

“As long as you don’t do anything stupid, no. I _trust_ that you—.”

“I know ya don’t trust me, Omi.”

Kiyoomi raises a brow at that. “I trust your tosses.”

“You know that’s not what I mean,” Atsumu shakes his head. “I mean, no offense, but I don’t trust ya to trust me enough to _not_ erase my memories, y’know?”

“...so what you’re saying is you _want_ me to take your memories away?”

“No! No one’s memories are getting taken!”

“Then _tell me_ , Miya,” Kiyoomi growls, feeling his patience finally reaching zero. Honestly, he’s surprised it even took this long. “What are you trying to say?”

“Well, what I’m sayin’ is,” Atsumu grins, though it looks more wolfish than charming, “how ‘bout we make a deal?”

“A deal.”

“Yup,” he chimes, popping the p. “A secret for a secret, what d’ya think?”

Kiyoomi narrows his eyes suspiciously. “What secrets does someone like _you_ even have?”

“That’s for me ta know, and you ta find out. What, aren't cha curious?”

“No,” Kiyoomi snaps, but as much as he hates to admit it, he _is_.

For someone who always looks like he wears his heart on his sleeve, Miya Atsumu has a surprisingly small amount of personal information available to the public and even to his own teammates. 

Kiyoomi would be lying if he said he hasn’t wondered about what _really_ goes on beneath that guy’s cocky sneers and arrogance before. 

He’s never been good with people, as Komori and literally everyone he’s decently close to likes to remind him, and it’s really not his place to question it, but Kiyoomi longs to ask him _why_ — why he always paints himself as someone worse than he actually is, why he always goes so far to hide.

_Why, despite all their differences, he and Kiyoomi are so similar to each other._

And maybe that’s why he relents, agrees to this ridiculous exchange of blackmail— because that’s what this all is, isn’t it?— as easily as he does.

“Fine. Tell me.”

Atsumu beams, triumphant, eyes gleaming with something that makes Kiyoomi suddenly regret his decision. “Alright, whaddya wanna know? Embarrassin’ childhood stories? What I do in my freetime? How many times I—?”

“What are you afraid of?” he blurts without thinking. 

“What am I afraid of?” Atsumu gapes at him. “Oh, that’s a new one. Hm, lemme think…” He smiles again, though it’s a lot softer than before. “I guess that would be…”

_Oh._

_So that’s the same too._

Kiyoomi swallows. “Doesn’t sound like something you’d be scared of.”

“Mhm, right?”

Atsumu holds out his hand, extending a pinkie. “All of this stays between us. Pinkie promise?”

“What are you, five?”

“Five months older than ya, sure,” he shrugs, not moving an inch. “Come on, this much touch is okay, right?”

Kiyoomi lets out a long suffering sigh and raises a hand without saying anything else. Their pinkies link together, squeezing slightly.

He ignores the fluttering in his chest from the touch, warm and comforting, everything his body wasn’t made to accept.

* * *

“Omi,” Atsumu calls when Kiyoomi comes back from washing his hands. “I have one more question for ya.”

“What,” he bites out, already feeling the beginnings of a headache forming.

“I was wonderin’...”

“Just say it, will you? It’s getting late and I’d rather you not wreck my sleep schedule too.”

“Calm down, calm down, ‘s not even that late,” Atsumu flails his arms around. “Anyways, like I was sayin’... yer a seahorse, right?”

“A dragon,” Kiyoomi corrects futilely. “And if you’ve been paying attention these past few hours— which I hope you _have_ — you would know.”

“Yeah, so,” he pauses, as if suddenly unsure how to continue, “does the, uh… the pregnancy… pregnancy thing—?”

“Finish that sentence,” Kiyoomi growls, his blood pressure spiking for the upteempth time today. “Finish that sentence, _I dare you._ ”

“’S an honest question!”

“ _No_ , I already ordered you a ride home, get out. _Now_.”

“Hold up, you can’t jus’ kick yer guest out like this!” Atsumu protests, pouting. “Can’t I stay for dinner?”

“Shoo, before I call pest control on you.”

“Okay, okay!” 

He’s halfway out the door when he stops and turns back, smirking at Kiyoomi.

“What.”

“Nothin’, nothin’, see ya at practice tomorrow, Omi-Omi!”

Atsumu disappears down the hall, his singsong voice still echoing in Kiyoomi’s ears as he starts cleaning up, sighing as two unfortunate cups join the graveyard of this morning’s plate massacre. 

Eh, it’s fine, it was partially his fault anyway. He’ll just ask someone from the Main House to get him more.

Anyway, that’s the least of Kiyoomi’s worries as he hurries around the small room to clean up the mess that Atsumu had made. 

First thing’s first: making sure there aren’t any leftover shards of glass still strewn across the ground. Then he can get to vacuuming and wiping down the—.

Kiyoomi’s thoughts come to a full stop when something sitting on the couch catches his eye.

A bright red phone.

_Atsumu’s_ bright red phone, weighed down by a fox charm and an onigiri charm. 

Out of _all_ the things that that forgetful idiot had to leave behind at Kiyoomi’s home, out of all the things that he could’ve called Kiyoomi about—.

And he forgot his fucking phone.

Kiyoomi groans, rubbing tiredly at his temples. There are a few things he can do: drop it off at Atsumu’s house tonight (unlikely, and where does he even live?), contact him about it (also unlikely, they don’t have any other form of communication and even if they did, Kiyoomi’s too tired to try), or just let him wallow in his own panic and helplessness and give it back tomorrow.

Kiyoomi chooses the last option.

So tomorrow at practice it is, then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some additional notes for this chapter:  
> \- yes, komori is the rabbit  
> \- yes, they love and appreciate the cat in this fic  
> \- no, the identity of the cat will not be revealed until a later chapter  
> \- atsumu is definitely more surprised that omi has siblings than he is about the whole curse thing  
> \- yes, they're sharing secrets and making pinkie promises, isn't that adorable :D  
> \- atsumu needs to shut the fuck up /lh
> 
> some stuff about the curse:  
> \- yes, it's caused by hugs of the same gender now  
> \- that's right, GENDER, not SEX  
> \- people can't understand what they're saying when they transform (so all atsumu's hearing is angry seahorse noises kjhfgjfdg)  
> \- yeah, none of them (except for omi and komori) are directly related 
> 
> thank you for reading!!!  
> as always, any kudos, comments, and bookmarks are greatly appreciated!! don't forget to get up or stretch if you haven't moved in a while, and see y'all (hopefully) next week!

**Author's Note:**

> My [Discord](https://discord.gg/E8rnymG) and [Tumblr](https://itslinsanity.tumblr.com/)


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